Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
DargonZine Volume 10 Issue 03
DDDDD ZZZZZZ //
D D AAAA RRR GGGG OOOO NN N Z I NN N EEEE ||
D D A A R R G O O N N N Z I N N N E || Volume 10
-=========================================================+<OOOOOOOOO>|)
D D AAAA RRR G GG O O N N N Z I N N N E || Number 3
DDDDD A A R R GGGG OOOO N NN ZZZZZZ I N NN EEEE ||
\\
\
========================================================================
DargonZine Distributed: 04/26/1997
Volume 10, Number 3 Circulation: 645
========================================================================
Contents
Editorial Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
Thought and Feeling Jim Owens Early Spring, 1016
Night Two Max Khaytsus Naia 11, 1015
The Long Way Home Josh Brown 15 Ober 1014
Shattered Love 2 Mark A. Murray Sy 1015
========================================================================
DargonZine is the publication vehicle of the Dargon Project, a
collaborative group of aspiring fantasy writers on the Internet.
We welcome new readers and writers interested in joining the project.
Please address all correspondance to <dargon@shore.net> or visit us
on the World Wide Web at http://www.shore.net/~dargon. Back issues
are available from ftp.shore.net in members/dargon/. Issues and
public discussions are posted to the Usenet newsgroup rec.mag.dargon.
DargonZine 10-3, ISSN 1080-9910, (C) Copyright April, 1997 by
the Dargon Project. Editor: Ornoth D.A. Liscomb <ornoth@shore.net>.
All rights reserved. All rights are reassigned to the individual
contributors. Stories may not be reproduced or redistributed without
the explicit permission of the author(s) involved, except in the case
of freely reproducing entire issues for further distribution.
Reproduction of issues or any portions thereof for profit is forbidden.
========================================================================
Editorial
by Ornoth D.A. Liscomb
<ornoth@shore.net>
Three months of jury duty is a nightmare.
Or it would be for most people. For me, on the other hand, it was
something of a sabbatical, increasing my free time and enabling me to
put some major time into updating the DargonZine Web site.
I spent this free time reviewing how our Web site was organized and
coming up with changes that will make it easier to use, as well as lots
of ideas about new services that will benefit both our readers and our
writers. Some of those changes have been put in place already, and some
(probably the best) are yet to come. As with any Web site, the
DargonZine site is never "finished", but will continue to evolve over
time with changes in the information it delivers, the technology which
delivers it, and the aesthetics of those to whom it is delivered.
But I can at least announce some of the recent changes. The most
notable addition to the Web site at this time is the availability of all
of DargonZine Volume 7 (calendar year 1994) in HTML format. It is our
goal to convert all our back issues to HTML, but we have a lot of back
issues and it's an arduous and time-consuming process. We now have the
past four years online, and will continue to convert more as time
permits.
In addition to the back issues, we've reorganized certain sections
of the Web site and updated many pages. We've added several new maps to
the "About DargonZine" page, as well as recalculated the results on the
"Reader Profile Responses" and "Questionnaire Responses" pages. The
"Archives" section has been revised, as has the "Links" page, the
"Writers" section, and the "Current Issue" display on the splash page.
Future changes include major revisions of the "Subscriptions"
section, as well as reorganization and clarification of the "About
DargonZine" and "Dargon Resources" sections. In addition, we're
developing a new format for our stories and issues, as well as
introducing a site-wide navigation bar.
So expect continuing changes in the site as it evolves and
improves. And let us know if any of the changes work particularly well
or particularly poorly. After all, the site has to work for you -- the
reader -- or it hasn't served its purpose.
The other big news is the upcoming 1997 Dargon Writers' Summit.
Despite the fact that we're working together constantly,
DargonZine's writers have very rarely had the opportunity to meet
face-to-face. And it wasn't until 1995 (ten years after FSFnet's
founding) that we tried to organize any kind of formal gathering.
In that year, we held a very small gathering in Boston, and last
year we held a slightly larger gathering in Denver. Both were trial runs
designed to guage whether larger organized meetings would be feasible
and productive. Both the Boston and Denver meetings were successful, and
so this year we're trying our first larger gathering.
The 1997 DargonZine Writers' Summit will take place the weekend of
May 10th in Washington DC, and will be hosted by Jon Evans. We've got a
lot planned for our 48 hours together, and it should be both a fun and
productive weekend. I'll be sure to tell you all about it both in our
next issue as well as on the Web site.
This issue starts out with another new story from project
co-founder Jim Owens, who continues his ongoing depiction of the lives
of Levy and Sarah Barel. In this episode, we get to see a little more of
their interaction in a story that says a great deal without shouting.
We then continue with "Night Two", the second story in Max
Khaytsus' new Deep Woods Inn series. We learn a little bit more about
what happened in the previous episode, and the travellers are faced with
a difficult decision.
Josh Brown joined the project last October, and stayed only long
enough to see "The Long Way Home" through to publication. He's given in
to the pressures of real life and left the project, but assures us that
he'll be back shortly.
Finally, DargonZine 10-3 culminates with the climax of Mark
Murray's long-running series about Raphael and Megan, Kell and Loth. But
you can bet that it certainly isn't the end...
Enjoy, and look for us again in June, after the Writers' Summit!
========================================================================
Thought and Feeling
by Jim Owens
<gym@ncweb.com>
Early Spring, 1016
Sarah made the walk from the house to the meeting hall alone. Only
when she approached the great door did she meet up with Lara, her
friend.
"Hello, Sarah," Lara said solicitously. "Alone tonight?"
"Yes, Lara," Sarah replied, tight-lipped. "The children are asleep
already."
"Still no Levy?"
"No Levy."
They moved through the thin crowd slowly. The town meeting had been
called because of some portent from the outer world that only vaguely
seemed important to Sarah. Nonetheless, she was there, along with most
of the rest of the villagers.
"The nights have been cold, haven't they?" asked Lara as they
walked, referring to more than the weather.
"No, I've not slept with him for about a week," Sarah replied,
cutting to the point. "He's sleeping down in the old house with the
oldest." The admission left her feeling naked, exposed, partly because
of her anger, partly because of her loss.
"Well, if he has anything to say to you, tonight's a good
opportunity," remarked Lara dryly. "There he is." She nodded toward the
back of the hall, where Levy was loitering by a stack of old looms and
frames that made up the couple's habitual seating in town meetings such
as this one. Sarah straightened her back and walked firmly toward him,
moving through the mostly-seated villagers.
"Hold him to it, Sarah," called Lara to her parting back.
"Can we talk?" Levy asked, hand outstretched, as she approached.
One glance at his face showed her that he was wanting to make up. She
wondered if she were. She took his hand and allowed him to lead her into
the jumble of old furniture, to where a few hay bales formed impromptu
couches. They sat down, only their faces showing to the group gathered
to hear the elder. Sarah faced the village leader's chair, not looking
at her husband.
As Eli called for attention, Levy leaned close to her, speaking
softly so no one else could hear.
"You're right, I should sell the horse," he said, squeezing her
hand. She continued to look forward, answering in the same soft tone.
"And the forge?"
"I really can't move it," he replied.
Sarah felt her ears start to burn. "Why, that's no compromise," she
thought angrily to herself. "That's just him tossing me a bone so he can
get what he wants!"
"If that's what you think's best, do what you must," she remarked
aloud, pulling her hand out of his. She didn't feel like arguing just
now. She folded her hands atop the old clothes-chest they were both
seated behind, and rested her chin on them.
"... make travel in the area more dangerous in the immediate future
... " Elder Eli was saying, to a slightly bored audience. Levy settled
down on the hay beside her, out of sight of the crowd.
"I want to include what you think in my decision," Levy countered,
not looking at her. She considered his words, but her heart was still
burning. The argument had building over months. Levy had his horse, and
his forge, and he was either making something or peddling it round about
the countryside, going and coming as he pleased, while she was home with
the children and the chores. The money he brought in was entirely of no
consequence -- didn't they both already have more than enough money for
the entire family? What was there to spend it on, anyway? Who had
anything they wanted to sell, what with the war and all? She wanted her
husband at home, where she needed him.
As her silence grew, Levy continued. "I really can't put the forge
in town," he continued. "The other villagers would complain about the
smoke and noise, and would make me move it back again anyway. Besides,
we're out in the field every day anyway -- why not just leave it there?"
Now he's trying to convince me, she thought, like he always does. A
small part of her felt a bit guilty, almost as if his argument was
convincing, but the argument really had nothing to do with it. Levy was
just away too much. He needed to be home, with her. He didn't need so
much freedom. Did she wander from town to town? Did she disappear for
hours and days at a time?
"Just do what you need to, Levy," she replied. Elder Eli was
speaking about some minor lord, somewhere nearby, and who was to replace
him when he died.
"If I put it in town I'll never get any work done. It'll be people
in and out all day, bothering me with questions and gawking. " This was
the real reason, she knew. He selfishly wanted to be alone, to hide from
the world, and from her, even. "Besides, it's not like you don't use the
forge, too," he countered.
"What, once a month?" she snapped at him, spinning to face him.
"All the way out there?"
"If I tear it down we'll lose the money I make off it. You do still
want that fabric from Dargon, don't you?"
She almost sneered at him. "I could have bought that fabric four
months ago, if there were any to be had! The money was never the
problem!"
"But then you couldn't have bought that targum seed," he chided
softly. She felt her impatience growing. They were starting to argue
about money, when that was not the real issue. Why did that always
happen? Why did he always turn the conversation away? She knew in her
heart that she did the same thing, but she did it for a different
reason, to show him the completeness of the problem. He was just
arguing.
"Just do what you need to." She again turned away, her eyes
watering involuntarily.
"What I need is to make you happy," Levy replied. "That you have
right," she almost said. Instead she turned to face him.
"Do you really want to please me?" she asked him, giving him no
where to turn.
"Not all the time, I suppose," he replied.
Now that's a new angle, she thought, her attention caught. She was
listening again.
"I should," he continued, "but I know I don't, not always. I
suppose now is one of those times. I want to keep my forge where it is."
"Well," she said, slipping down off her seat to recline beside him,
"you have a decision to make, then. I want a husband who is home more
than he is away. That would make me happy."
"I want a wife that's happy. Therefore, the question is, which do I
want more? A forge out alone, where I can work uninterrupted, or a wife
who is pleased with me?"
"That's the question, Levy Barel." In spite of her anger, Sarah was
with her husband. Few men in the village would have had the wisdom and
courage to admit what he did. But if he could admit it, why did he still
cling to such a stupid claim? How simple it would be for him to just
give in. It wasn't like she was forbidding him to have a forge. Couldn't
he see that she wanted this? That she needed this? That she needed him?
The forge she could live with, no matter where it was, but how could she
live with a man who held back on her, who held out on her? Hadn't she
given him everything she had? Hadn't she given him her very self? She
could tell by the look in his eyes that he was weighing both sides of
the issue. She wanted to slap him, and was about to push away from him
and get up when the look in his eyes changed.
Sarah held her breath. The cold, calculating expression faded from
his face, draining away, and was replaced by a yearning, a look of
abject poverty of soul. She hadn't expected this. It didn't happen very
often, and it was almost frightening, because she knew that he was
dropping the walls around his heart. She had seen the look before, and
it always amazed her. This was not something she was able to do -- this
complete exposure of the self to the will of another. But Levy could. It
faded after a moment, but not completely. It remained a faint glimmer in
the back of his eye.
"I suppose I could get Mattan to help me move the shed, if I asked
him nicely," Levy finally admitted.
Sarah almost laughed through her tears. It was like watching a dam
burst, and a mere, small stream come out. Yet that was all it would
take. She knew that once Levy made the first step, he would complete the
journey. The argument was over, but the piled up emotions remained, a
logjam that threatened to disrupt the flow of their new-found peace.
"You remind me again of why I love you," she said matter-of-factly.
She leaned forward, still hurting, but wanting now to touch him. He
leaned forward to kiss her, but she drew away, not ready for intimacy.
She still smarted from his obstinacy, but he had finally given her what
she needed, so she could again give him what he wanted, once the pain
subsided.
"And as for my being away from home so long ..."
Sarah held her breath. "Now what?" she wondered.
"... Now that the children are older, perhaps we could all make
some of the trips now. I know it's a chore, but I know that you have
been wanting to get out, and you could be with me, wherever I am."
Sarah's jaw dropped in shock. "Is he crazy?" she wondered silently.
"What sort of idea is that?" But then her dismay was replaced by
intrigue, as images of her own childhood home came to mind. When was the
last time she had visited her father's grave? When was the last time
she'd seen the deep green trees of her youthful home? A warm joy
diffused into her mind at the idea of returning to hills where she was
born. And then, the terror of the idea returned. Take the children? The
baby? But this time her joy held her terror back.
"We'll see," was all she said.
The sounds of the crowd rose, indicating the end of the meeting.
Levy withdrew his hands as they both arose. She smiled warmly for him,
holding his hand firmly, sniffing back her tears. Her head was content:
things were again right, even if her heart was still unsettled. They
could get back to the business of life, with each other to lean on. That
was all that mattered. Her emotions would catch up in time, and could be
concealed until then.
"Well, father will want to talk to me," he muttered, smiling shyly.
"I won't be long."
"Don't be," she admonished, not really feeling it. She let her
touch linger as they pulled away. As he walked away she settled back
onto the hay bale, sorting out her thoughts. When he returned to her bed
tonight he would expect and deserve a warm reception, and if she could,
she would provide one. She had no qualms about acting out an affection
tonight that she wouldn't feel until tomorrow. Not all of one's actions
had to be spontaneous. It occurred to Sarah that her body might be
unreceptive as well. No matter. Levy would work at that, and possibly
even achieve it. Besides, the joy of making up was sometimes worth the
pain of the fight. Suddenly her emotions came flooding out her eyes, and
she wept for a moment. Then she got up, straightened her skirt, and
headed for the house.
She encountered Lara at the door again. Lara had a curious look on
her face.
"Well? What were you at, back there?" She waited, expectantly.
Sarah thought a moment. "We were making love," she replied, then
left the wordless Lara behind. She walked out into the chill, star-lit
night. Looking up at the stars she considered. Had she lied just then?
No, not really. Love had to be made, just like anything else in life.
You just used different tools. She continued on alone, to await her
lover.
========================================================================
Night Two
by Max Khaytsus
<khaytsus@cs.colorado.edu>
Naia 11, 1015
"Shor?" Jana stuck her head through the trap door leading to the
topmost balcony over the common room.
The Lashkirian warrior stood with his back to her, looking down at
the common room below. The balcony was right below the ceiling of the
inn's extended third floor, just roomy enough to prevent the Lashkirian
from having to bend down. Below, in a larger and wider concentric ring
sat the second floor balcony with doors leading to rooms. It was set
further out, causing the topmost floor to protrude out above it, making
it seem like the extended portion of the rafters. Thirty feet below it
all, lay the floor of the common room, with eight tables along walls,
forming a semi-circle, leaving the center of the room open and clear.
The east end of the room opened into the vestibule of the inn,
disappearing under the low overhang of the second floor, separating what
must have been the old and new portions of the building.
"Shor?" Jana climbed up to the balcony and walked up to him,
holding the rail for support.
"I didn't realize how open the room is to this balcony," Kishore
said to Jana, as she stopped by him. "You can see every corner from here
... "
"Are you setting up an ambush?"
He turned his head. "Are you afraid of heights?"
"What makes you say that?"
"Your bad jokes and the way you stand. You're wittier, usually."
"I'm just a little scared. I'll be fine if I don't look down."
"Sit," Kishore offered. "You were telling me about Tench last
night, before the brigands came."
Jana sat down by the trap door, placing her back against the wall.
The bandits from the night before, she remembered nervously, came to rob
the inn, involving the guests in a fight and causing all of them to
spend an extra day here, waiting for the local constable to show to
clear things up.
"You look a little pale," Kishore said, sitting down by her.
"Perhaps we should go downstairs."
"I'm fine, really." She took a deep breath. The chasm in the floor
appeared right before her, seeming a league wide.
"Last few days been too much for you?" Kishore asked.
Jana nodded. "I didn't think those men would be killed."
"They're brigands, Jana. Thieves. I am less worried about their
well being than I am about yours. I am only sorry the time was so
inappropriate."
"I wanted some adventure, remember," Jana smiled. "And besides, you
didn't know they would pick last night to raid the inn. It could have
happened anywhere."
"Nonetheless, it was bad timing."
"Yes, but it would have to happen to me at one time or another.
Better now, when there were people around, than later on, when I'm
alone."
"People died, Jana. You could have been one of them."
Jana tilted her head towards Kishore. "I wanted to help."
"Next time, please don't."
She nodded. "I'm sorry."
"You did not know that man from Pyn ... ?"
"Pyenson. Pyenson Barony is in the southwest part of the duchy,
right up against the Darst Range." She fell silent for a moment, then
added. "I have no idea who the man is, other than a member of the House
of Pyenson, judging by his dress. He was pretty far from home. I was
afraid he'd recognize me. He gave his life for me instead."
"Did that teach you anything?" Kishore asked. He was hoping she
would decide she was reaching too far.
"I learned that when my brother and I sparred, he held back. The
fight caught me off guard."
"I never intended for you to fall into danger like last night."
"Don't worry about it. I was ready for a fight ... with the
Narragan guard. The brigands just caught me unprepared. I am ready,
now."
"You only think you are," Kishore said. He had grown used to the
girl's stubborn streak. "You were telling me about Tench."
"Tench is in Narragan ... " Jana started thoughtfully.
"How close to Armand?"
"Not very. Actually, it's clear on the other side of the Duchy.
There's also a military camp not far from there, Castle Pentamorlo, on
the Dargon side, so the Ducal Guard does not patrol the area much."
"Who do the troops answer to?" Kishore asked.
"Lord Morion, a minor noble. The land was vested to him by three
Kings of Baranur, so it's his now," Jana explained. "He's sort of a
Duke, but not really. And his soldiers patrol the area, so there's no
need for the Ducal Guard to go out of their way."
"A sort of a Duke in a sort of a big place that is small?" Kishore
inquired.
Jana laughed. "Did I say that?"
"Something like that."
"Well, it is. The only reason Tench ever grew beyond a farming
community is that it's at a major crossroads. Hawksbridge and Wachock
are south of it and Miass, east in Asbridge. I guess those would be the
choices for where to go after Tench."
"Before we settle on a place," Kishore said, "how far do you intend
to run?"
"I ... " Jana looked up at her companion. "How far will you take
me?"
"How far will I ... "
"Hey, anybody around here?" A gruff voice sounded below.
Kishore leaned forward and looked down through the planks of the
balcony rail. A large man in a faded military jacket stood in the middle
of the common room, looking around. He scanned the balcony of the second
floor with his eyes, but did not bother looking above that.
"Who is it?" Jana whispered.
"The constable, perhaps."
"Can I help you?" Ravi's voice sounded down below.
"I'm Constable Trumfor. I understand you folks had some guests last
night."
"We were the guests, Constable," Ravi answered. "Some men attacked
us. They killed the proprietor."
"Who is 'we', lady? And what is your name?"
"My name is Ravi Lavgan and we -- the other guests and I -- were
the people staying here for the night."
"Yes, well ... "
Footsteps sounded in the common room. "Giles Kreb, a pleasure to
meet you, Constable." Metal clanked below.
"You were here last night?" Trumfor asked.
"Yes, I was."
"I'm going to join them," Kishore whispered to Jana. "Stay here.
You'll be able to see everything."
"Yeah, as if I'll look."
"If your curiosity gets the better of you, you will."
"Don't pick a fight with the midget, Shor," Jana reminded him.
"Not unless his tongue lashes out again."
"Please, take a seat," Ravi's voice sounded as Kishore disappeared
down the narrow ladder.
"I'd be happy to," the constable answered. "It's unseasonably hot
out there," he hinted to his hosts.
Wood creaked, as if a heavy load settled into a chair and Jana
leaned forward a bit, trying to see what was going on. She moved
forward, only far enough to see the balcony of the second floor across
the room before her fear forced her to lean back against the wall.
"So, why don't you tell me the story from the start," Trumfor
asked.
"Of course, Constable."
Another chair creaked.
"Would you get us some mead?" Ravi asked.
"What? Me?" Kreb groaned.
"You're just sitting here."
"And you're standing."
"I'm telling a story. You get the constable something to drink."
The midget grumbled and got up, the chair creaking once again.
"So, what happened last night?" Trumfor asked again.
Ravi sat down in the chair Kreb vacated, taking her time and trying
the constable's patience. "We were here waiting for our meals, six of
us, when four men walked in. Two waited in the entry and the other two
... "
Kishore entered the common room from the vestibule stairs. "Ravi,"
he greeted the woman.
"Kishore," she stood up. "Kishore Talluri, Constable Trumfor. The
Constable is here to investigate the murder."
"An honor, sir," Kishore gripped forearms with the man. The
Constable was a heavy set man with greying hair and a weathered face. He
was easily in his forties and possessed a powerful grip.
"Continue, please," the constable insisted, returning to his chair.
Kishore also sat down.
"Two men waited in the entryway," Ravi went on, "while the other
two entered the kitchen. I didn't give it much thought at the time; the
men acted rather boldly, as if they belonged."
"It really didn't look like they were here to kill anyone," Kishore
interjected into Ravi's statement, "although they did have an air of
arrogance about them."
The Constable turned his head to Kishore, an irritated look on his
face, but said nothing, seeing Kreb's return.
The midget put three wooden mugs on the table and filled them from
the pitcher he had brought. One mug was passed to the constable and
another to Ravi. The third he kept for himself, having placed the
pitcher back on the table.
"I admit I'm much larger than you," Kishore leaned forward in his
seat, coming nose to nose with the standing midget, "but a pitcher is
far too large a mug for me."
"So get yourself one," Kreb barked, pulling up a seat.
"The story, please!" Trumfor interrupted the argument.
"Well, after the men disappeared into the kitchen," Ravi went on,
"we didn't do anything until the innkeeper started yelling. It sounded
like he was in trouble then, so we all got up and confronted the two men
who were watching us ... "
"All of you. Three of you and ... ? You said you were six."
"My friend, Salish, was with us," Kreb said.
"And my ward," Kishore added. "And another patron, who was killed
in the fight."
"Where are they now?" the constable asked.
"Jana is around, I expect," Kishore said. "She had little
participation in the confrontation."
"And the other one?"
"Salish," Kreb repeated. "He was the one who rode out to get you.
He'll be back tomorrow morning."
"Yes, the skinny man," the constable remembered. "He said he was
getting supplies."
"After we confronted them, the men drew steel on us," Ravi said.
"They had first strike, but not first blood."
"And you killed them?"
"Not that easily. Their companions in the kitchen joined them, as
did two other men who apparently waited outside."
"So there were six of them and six of you, and the innkeeper," the
constable tallied the people.
"Right, at first," Ravi agreed, "but the innkeeper was dead by
then. They killed him before they left the kitchen. And another man
joined us in the fight. While we fought, he came in the door and aided
us in the fight. He's the only one from around here. A friend of the
innkeeper."
"Is he still here?" Trumfor asked.
"Out back, I think. I left him there just recently."
"Go on."
"The bandits showed no will to yield, so we killed all of them in
the fight."
"Seven of you and six of them?"
"Most of us seem to be trained fighters. We held our own." Ravi
answered to the constable's skepticism.
"Where are the bodies and where is the innkeeper's friend?" Trumfor
asked.
"The bodies are in the barn, also out back."
"All right, let's go see about them," Trumfor got up.
They all went into the vestibule and through the back room to get
outside, Kishore pausing at the edge of the common room to take a look
up. He could see just a trace of Jana on the top balcony, sitting back
from the rail. The balcony was too high to naturally fall in his line of
vision and so appeared to be a perfect hiding space.
Outside Ravi brought the constable to Sand, who was splitting wood
with an axe. Splinters flew in all directions each time he struck a log,
but he would quickly turn it, or pull up another one, and strike again.
"You're the innkeeper's friend?" Trumfor asked. It was obvious that
he recognized the woodsman.
"Yeah, what's it to you?"
"Nothing, I suppose. Did the old man have any family?"
"None that I know of," Sand said. "I know he built this place after
his wife died, but I don't know if they had children."
"You know what those bandits wanted from him?"
"Money? Food? Room and lodging?" Sand said sarcastically.
"Don't give me your mouth," the constable warned. "Show me the
bodies."
Ravi led him and the others to the barn and let them in. "They're
in the back."
Trumfor walked between the eight stabled horses, looking right and
left at the animals. He paused by the white stallion that belonged to
Jana, admiring the horse. "Nice, nice ... "
Having looked in each of the twelve stalls, the constable turned to
Ravi. "Whose animals are these?"
"All but the three on the end are ours," Ravi responded. "I guess
the extras are the innkeeper's. One could belong to the dead guest."
"Are they?" Trumfor asked Sand.
"I imagine so," he said. "I wasn't writing his ledger."
"What about the bandits? They didn't walk, did they?"
"I put their horses in the woods behind the house," Sand said.
"Didn't want them recognized by others who may pass through."
The constable nodded at that and entered the stall where eight
bodies lay on the hay. He first looked over the dead innkeeper, pausing
on the cuts in his neck and chest. "Quick cuts. They wanted him to die."
"Look at his hand," Sand said. "They broke some fingers before they
killed him."
The constable picked up the dead man's hand and examined the now
black bruises, then let it drop in the hay and looked at the other
bodies. He paused again at the man who was obviously not with the
brigands and straightened his tabard to get a better look. "Pyenson
Barony, in Narragan, if I'm not mistaken. Know his name?"
"We did not exactly have the time to ask," Ravi said. "It all
happened pretty quickly."
"And these are the six you killed?"
"Yes."
He looked the men over one by one, taking care to examine the cuts.
"Someone bash this man while he was on the ground?" he asked, examining
the split skull of the man Kishore had struck from above, the first
casualty of the fight.
"It was a rather vigorous battle," Ravi said. "I'm sure one of us
did."
"Well, no matter. This one has a reward of five silver on him. Ten,
if he were alive." The constable looked at the last of the bodies, the
man Sand killed after the fight ended. "Don't tell me this happened in
the fight, too." The back of the brigand's skull was crushed and throat
covered with bloody scratches. The body was stained with dried blood.
"It was a rather vigorous battle," Ravi repeated. "I don't think
any of us could say how that happened exactly."
"Yes, well. I know him, too, and I don't care how he died. And if
I'm destined to ever find his buddies, I wouldn't object to them
suffering the same fate. Save the Duke's Advocate the bother of trying
them." The constable stood up and critically examined the old barn. "You
know, five years patrolling this part of the Duchy and this is the first
time I stopped at this rat hole." He kicked the wall of a stall, causing
the old board to crack. "I watered my horse in better swamps. Now I have
to investigate this one ... "
"I'm willing to offer any help that I can," Sand said. "I owe the
man something for his kindness ... "
"We're all willing to help," Ravi said. Kreb started to say
something, but she kicked him instead. "We all suffered through the
night."
Trumfor brushed his chin, a little grey growth on it from the
previous day. "Why don't I just deputize you for this and have you
look?"
"For what?" Ravi asked.
"Why don't you come with me, all of you."
Jana climbed down the vertical ladder off the top balcony, clinging
to it for fear of falling. She hated heights, but she hated the idea of
being seen by the local Constable even more. For that matter, she did
not much want to be seen by anyone, including the people she had spent
the night with at the inn.
'The Forgotten Inn', the sign proclaimed over the doors, and she
had hoped that meant that this lone building, in the middle of nowhere,
would be a quiet place to spend the night before continuing to Dargon,
but instead it was besieged by guests, and later bandits. She had not
wanted to spend the evening in a fight.
At home brigands were rare. Narragan, like Dargon, was still a
frontier of Baranur and justice in the Duchy was always rapid. Public
executions were not uncommon and did their share to discourage crime.
She had never heard of a group of men, such as this, being able to
attempt what she had witnessed the night before. She had no doubt they
would have killed everyone at the inn, had they been given a chance, and
that made her wish she was back home. It was the first time she felt
this way in her dozen days on the road and it scared her to think that
her father was right when he told her she was not bred for a life of
adventure.
Jana hurried down the flight of stairs from the guest rooms,
wanting to escape the inn for the deep woods outside, to wait for the
Constable's departure, but instead, as she entered the vestibule, came
face to face with the constable, returning from the back of the inn.
The old soldier reflexively grabbed Jana, preventing a collision
and the girl immediately shrunk back.
"My ward," Kishore said, hurrying to the constable's side,
protectively putting his arm around Jana's shoulders and pulling her
back. "Constable Trumfor, Jana Wynn."
"How old are you, girl?"
"Sixteen," she hesitated before answering.
"Yes, yes," Trumfor muttered and went on.
"Are you all right?" Ravi asked Jana.
"Yes," she nodded.
"Go outside," Kishore said. "We will be done soon."
Jana let out a breath of relief and hurried out the back way.
Kishore hurried to catch up with the others in the common room.
Constable Trumfor sat in his chair and took a long drink from a
freshly filled mug. "There is a whole lair of these brigands somewhere
here in the woods. Two dozen or so. I figure if you catch all of them --
all the right ones -- you'll earn yourselves a couple of gold Marks.
Nothing to make you rich, but enough to keep you in rations for a year
or two."
"Why haven't they been caught yet?" Ravi asked.
"Because they're not that big a problem," the constable answered.
"They're just annoying enough to have a price on their heads, but not
enough of one to summon bounty hunters or send the Guard after them.
Bring 'em in and I'll pay you."
"Where are they?" Kreb asked, a greedy sparkle in his eyes.
"If I knew that, I wouldn't be here telling you to go find them."
"How will we know it's them if we find them?" Ravi asked. "There
are travellers on this road and people in these woods."
"Your first clue will be them trying to rob you," Trumfor laughed.
He downed the rest of the ale and stood up. "I'll send someone for the
bodies, and to pay you the reward. If you find anymore, take them to
Dargon, or look me up in Heahun or Shireton." He shuffled a moment
longer, checking his sword and belt, then headed for the door.
"Constable," Sand called out after him. "What about the inn?"
"What about it?"
"Delor is dead," Sand answered, "and I don't know if he had
children ... "
"If no one claims it in three years, the land will revert to the
Duke ... but so long as the taxes are paid, no one will care who's here.
I certainly won't."
"An inn and a reward ... " Kreb muttered as Trumfor again headed
for the door, no longer paying attention to them.
Ravi cast Kreb a look of disgust. "Personally, I'd like to get my
hands on their leader. This seems like too quiet a road to have bandits
on it."
"I'd like nothing more myself," Sand agreed.
"I already said I'm in," Kreb repeated.
Kishore looked at all of them, his gaze passing from one face to
another. "Your intentions are admirable, but you know nothing of one
another, or what awaits you down the road."
"Are you not joining us?" Ravi asked.
"I was planing to be in Dargon soon," Kishore said.
"So what's a few more days?"
"A few less days I will have to do something else. I have a young
girl to care for. I have no wish to drag her into some personal revenge.
I killed two men last night. That's two more than I have killed in a
long time. Death isn't something I want her to experience. We'll be
leaving tomorrow morning."
No one replied and Kishore got up and left the room, leaving the
others to think about what he had said.
"Well, that's his loss," Kreb was the first to get up.
"It's his choice, not his loss," Sand corrected him. "I can
understand what he said."
"Whatever," the midget muttered and left the room.
"Foul attitude," Ravi leaned back in her chair.
"I can understand him, too," Sand answered. "Four foot tall is a
long way to look up, especially if you're dealing with someone as tall
as the Lashkirian."
"You weren't here when he got called a 'lizard man'."
"The Lashkirian?"
"Who else?"
"Then maybe it's for the better if he left," Sand agreed. "We'll be
having plenty of battles if we tackle the brigands."
"But he is good with a sword ... "
"Jana?" Kishore called to his companion, having come out the
kitchen door of the inn. Jana sat on a low wooden bench behind the
building and he took a seat by the girl. "The constable left. Are you
all right?"
"Fine. He scared me a bit."
"You did run into him."
"I wanted ... thought if I could get outside ... He didn't
recognize me, did he?"
"Do you know him?"
"No," Jana protested. "He's just a soldier, and in Dargon, at
that."
"Then don't worry about it," Kishore said. "I doubt anyone not
looking for you will know who you are. And we'll be leaving tomorrow,
anyway."
"For Dargon? And then Tench?"
"Dargon, and then Tench," Kishore agreed. "And then you'll have to
give me more advice."
"Miass," Jana answered without being prompted. "As far away from
Armand as I can get."
"You'll miss your family."
"Are you asking me, or telling me?"
"I'm telling you," Kishore answered thoughtfully. "I miss mine."
"You never told me about your family," Jana said.
"No. And I'd rather not now."
"Doesn't seem like I'm the only one running." Jana got up, dusting
herself off.
"Everyone runs. We just do it for different reasons."
"I'll check the horses, so we can keep running tomorrow," Jana
laughed and headed for the barn.
"Don't be too long!" Kishore called after her.
As soon as she was out of sight in the darkness, new footsteps
sounded from the house, behind Kishore, and he turned to look. Giles
Kreb slowly made his way to him. "Don't fight me, Lashkirian."
"I'll be leaving soon enough. Fight whoever you want, then,"
Kishore said, getting up.
"I'll fight who I want, when I want to, but I'll also be man enough
to appreciate another's skill."
Kishore looked down at the midget. "If this is about last night,
you're welcome."
"It's about last night and all other nights to come. Your presence
made a difference."
"Shor!" Jana called from the barn. Kishore glanced her way and when
he looked back, Kreb was making his way back to the inn.
"Shor!"
"Yes?" Kishore started for Jana, puzzled over the midget's words.
What was he trying to say?
"What did Kreb want from you?" Jana asked.
"I'm not sure ... He didn't really thank me ... and he didn't ask
me to stay, but I've got the feeling that's what he wanted to do ... "
"Stay? You mean at the inn? Why?"
"The constable hired us -- I say 'us' loosely -- to find the rest
of the brigands in these parts. I thought it would be better if we moved
on."
"You didn't ask me?" Jana chided.
"I don't think looking for highwaymen is a good thing for us to
do."
"You mean for me, right?" Jana asked.
"More for you than me," Kishore agreed.
"Can't we stay another day or two?"
"Why?"
"Well, you say Kreb asked you to," Jana offered, "and if he could
swallow his pride, it must be pretty important."
"He didn't ask me," Kishore stressed, "and even if he had, I don't
think I'd do it for him."
"You weren't in this much of a hurry last night."
"I hadn't met Kreb then. And we weren't in any danger."
"But can we stay a day or two longer?" Jana insisted.
"Why?"
"I stayed up last night talking with Ravi," Jana explained. "She
... she's the type of a person I always wanted to be -- free and
independent. I really like her, and if she's going to stay ... "
"Jana," Kishore sighed, "we're a mere fortnight from Armand. We're
not safe here. Anyone can follow us. This is the only road to Dargon."
"This is the most direct, but not the largest, nor the safest,"
Jana corrected Kishore's argument. "That's why we took this road.
Please?"
He nodded with reluctance. "All right. Come on, it's dark out."
"Wait. Isn't the constable taking the bodies? They've been here a
whole day now. They will start to smell in this heat soon."
"The horses won't mind another day," Kishore answered. "Trumfor
said he will send someone to get them."
"Yeah, but in the barn ... "
"They could be in the house," Kishore said, "or in a war. Be glad
you didn't see the bodies in the war."
"My brother was in the war," Jana told him. "He said the same
thing."
"You don't know how right he was."
They returned to the inn, pausing at the kitchen doorway.
"Do you want something to eat?" Kishore asked.
"No. Not now. Not after seeing those bodies again."
"Suit yourself." He headed into the kitchen, leaving Jana in the
vestibule.
Ravi was putting mugs away in the kitchen, cleaning up after the
constable's visit. "So can I change your mind about leaving tomorrow?"
she asked as he came in.
"Are you anxious I left sooner?" Kishore hid a smile, looking
through a storage bin which contained fruit. He selected a dark green
apple and turned back to the red-headed woman.
"I was wondering if you could be persuaded to change your mind,"
she answered. "We could use the help."
"You say that as if you expect to find the other brigands," Kishore
said, taking a bite from his apple.
"I know we will," she answered, "or they'll find us first -- we cut
their number by six. A dozen or five dozen, losing six will sting."
"And if I say 'yes'?"
"Then one sixth of two Marks is just over three Rounds."
"And that'll keep me in rations for a month or two?" Kishore asked
with a smile.
"Depends on how much you eat. You're pretty big."
Kishore thought for a moment, chewing on the apple. "You're not the
first one to ask me to stay."
"But were you convinced before I asked?" Ravi asked.
"Almost. And I'm almost convinced now. I guess another day or two
won't hurt."
========================================================================
The Long Way Home
by Josh Brown
<jbrown@macs.biu.ac.il>
15 Ober 1014
I close my eyes and they are there again. They stand there amidst
the noise and the carnage and they plead with me voicelessly. The faces
and voices that have haunted my dreams. Dreams that do not end.
I open my eyes and they are gone. I look around, not sure of where
I am, but then I realize that I am far from the battlefield, far from
those desperate eyes.
Suddenly, I remember where I am. The hill before me is the same as
it was when I played on it as I grew up, and home should be on the other
side of it. I am home. Finally, I am home.
I stop as I reach the crest of the hill, and look down at the town.
For some reason, it seems smaller than it was when I left six months
ago. Was it only six months? It seems a lifetime ago.
I walk along the hillside, looking for some sign, something that
will allow me to believe that I am really home. Suddenly, I realize
which tree I am standing under. I look up at the branches, counting them
as they go higher. There, it is still there. My mind drifts back to that
sunny afternoon, not two years ago, when, on a dare, I climbed the tree
to carve my initials, and Bronya's, surrounded by a heart.
Bronya. My heart leaps at the thought of her. Now I know. I am
home, and will soon be with Bronya again. I break into a run down the
hill.
As I draw closer to the town, I can see children playing, running
around in some game. I should know these children, yet I cannot put
names to these faces.
The children run around, oblivious to me. They cry out to each
other, calling for help, screaming out of the pain they feel. No one can
go to help them. The healers run to see if they are injured, but it is
not a physical hurt that causes them to cry. It is the battle that has
raged around their village, the fighting that has disrupted their
innocent lives. It is the sight of their parents killed, murdered by
soldiers who saw them as some threat. It is the sight of their parents'
bodies, lying face down in the mud.
And we cannot help. Our commanders give brief orders to march on,
to get back into formations. So we can move quicker down the road that
leads us towards battle. Towards our destinies.
A shout wakes me from my daydreaming. "It's Tomas! He's come home!"
I blink, and it is not crying children before me. They are laughing
and playing, knocking things over as they try to catch each other.
The cry comes again. "It's Tomas! He's come home!"
I am quickly surrounded by laughing and cheering friends and
relatives. They are happy, rejoicing that I have returned from the wars
safe and sound. Festivities are planned. Everyone insists that I come to
them for dinner. Everyone wants to be happy that at least one soldier
has come home safely.
I am practically dragged to the tavern. Drinks are bought and are
practically thrown down my throat.
The taste of the hastily made tea burns my throat, but it is all
there is to drink, all we can prepare on this march towards the enemy.
One of the others throws me a half loaf of bread with some meat sticking
out from it. I eat as quickly as possible, wanting to finish before we
are ordered back into this long march.
A hand lands on my shoulder. I jump, thinking the order to resume
marching has been given.
"Tomas! Does Bronya know you're home yet?"
It is Bronya's father. He shoves another mug in my hand, and hugs
me.
All, of course, want to hear stories, what I've seen, where I've
been. But how can I tell them of the things I've seen? What the faces of
ten year old girls look like after they have been raped by a dozen men.
What it smells like when people are herded like cattle into huts, which
are then set alight. What the air over a battlefield tastes like when so
many men lie dead or dying in the blood soaked mud.
It is some time before I can get myself away from the crowd. I
hurry down the streets, ignoring the calls of those who are seeing me
for the first time. When I reach the house, I stop and knock on the
door.
Bronya opens it.
She cries out, and hugs me. I hug her back, almost choking her with
my embrace. I put her back down, and follow her into the house.
The house has been looted thoroughly by those who have preceded me.
The furniture is smashed to bits, and anything of real worth has been
taken. Something glittering catches my eye from the bottom of the pile.
It turns out to be a child's bauble, forgotten in the inhabitants' haste
to leave, to get out of town before the soldiers arrived. Before I can
look further, the captain calls. We must move on before nightfall.
We return to the trail. We move silently, each of us deep in our
own thoughts of the remains of the farm we have just passed. Thoughts of
what if it was our home. I look behind me, to see the long line of weary
soldiers marching on, and the supply wagons behind us. I stumble over
some stone in the road.
Bronya helps me back up. She apologizes for the mess in the house.
She was not expecting me, of course, and she has been keeping up her
work as a seamstress in my absence. She pushes the basket of cloth from
out of the way.
I am speechless. Weeks of dreaming of this moment have not prepared
me for it.
Bronya rushes around, putting food on the table. The first taste of
her stew, seasoned as she knows I like it, erases the memories of trail
food from my mind. While I eat, Bronya has my pack open, and busies
herself with unpacking it. She glares at me when she sees the state of
my clothes. I explain that we didn't have a laundress with us, but she
just sighs.
She smiles when she finds the sack of money. I must admit, it is
enough to see us through at least a year. The captain was kind with us
when the company was discharged, and I had tried to save as much as
possible on the trip home.
Suddenly, she leaps at me, knocking the spoon from my hand as she
begins to cover my face with kisses. I can do little but smile smugly.
She must have found the bolt of silk I bought for her on the road.
I have barely finished my meal when a hammering comes at the door.
"Tomas! Come out and join us! Let us get a look at you!"
It is my younger brothers. I look sheepishly at Bronya, and she
waves me out the door.
"Go and be the great war hero to them. As if I could stop you."
I smile, give her a quick kiss and join my brothers outside.
I know that it has not been that long, yet they look older to me.
Seff's chin is covered with fine down and Markus seems to have grown a
head taller since I have seen them last.
They want to hear stories of what I have done as well. "How many
men did you kill?" "How much did you bring back?" "What have you seen?"
"What battles did you participate in?"
I hold my hands up to try and stop the questions. "Let me answer
one at a time. I can't answer them all at once. 'Specially if I can't
hear them all."
They grin, and stop to let me speak. Suddenly, something falls on
me from behind.
I whip around, my sword ready. Before me stands a soldier, the
markings on his dusty armor showing him to be an enemy. He charges, and
I parry his thrust. My mouth is suddenly too dry to call for any of my
companions to help me, and so I must fight on alone.
He is better than I am, and I must give up ground, moving farther
and farther into the back of the ruined building, trying hard not to
trip over any of the rubble that covers the floor.
My first judgment is wrong. He is not a little better than I, he is
a lot better. I find myself swinging wildly, dodging his blade as best I
can.
Then, the worst happens -- I trip over something on the floor. I
look up at his smirk, as he is about to bring his sword down through me,
when a strange look comes over his face. He suddenly groans, and falls
at my feet. I look up and see Samir wiping the blood off his sword. He
then reaches down and helps me to my feet.
"I guess you owe me one, right?" he asks.
I grin, but before I can answer, we come under a hail of arrows
from somewhere up ahead. We duck and take cover, yelling out for the
rest of the company to come and help us find where these archers are
hidden.
"Tomas, is something wrong? Why the yelling? It's just Barak."
I blink and look at my youngest brother, who now lies on his back
from where I threw him. I apologize, and help him to his feet. He laughs
and says he deserved it, jumping on me like that.
I sit with them for a while, telling them of battles and of the
places I've been. I try to keep the gory details from them. They listen
to me with their mouths hanging open, memorizing my every words.
Suddenly, Bronya sticks her head out of the window. "Time to go
home, boys. Tomas will be here in the morning, and I'm sure that you
have to be up early for chores. And Tomas must be tired. Let's let him
get some sleep."
The boys wish us goodnight, and disappear into the darkness.
Inside, Bronya takes me by the hand and leads us to our bedroom.
She dances away from my embrace, insisting I wash off the travel dust
before she'll allow me near her.
When I return to the bedroom, she is already undressed and under
the covers. I smile, remembering her modesty, and remove my smallclothes
in order to join her under the thick goose down quilt.
She reaches to me, the tatters of her shift revealing her body
beneath. The burns on her arms must pain her greatly, yet she does not
cry out. I yell for the healers to help her, but before they can come,
the crash of battle reaches my ears, and a shout to abandon what we're
doing, and to join in the fight. I leave the woman where she lies, and
rush to find my companions.
"Tomas, what's wrong?"
Bronya's question hangs in the air between us. I look down,
suddenly realizing I am no longer in bed.
I rejoin her on the bed. She reaches for me again, yet I do not
feel I can grow warm again in her arms.
And the next day is worse. The images of the places I've been, the
horrors I've seen seem to blend in with the faces of those I live
amongst. I see the wounded as I walk through the marketplace. I hear the
cries of the children as I sit in the tavern with my neighbors.
And I see and hear the wounded women as I lay next to Bronya. I
feel that I have somehow let her down, that it is somehow my own fault
that I cannot bring myself to touch her. She does not understand. And I
cannot find the words to explain it to her.
And so I live my life haunted by the demons of a war that is over.
I hope and pray that they'll leave me and I cling to the thought that
tomorrow will bring release, that I'll be able to go back to the life
I'd had before.
I only hope that I do not wait in vain.
========================================================================
Shattered Love
Part II
by Mark A. Murray
<mmurray@weir.net>
Dargon, Sy 1015
Raphael, Kyle, and Jandis travelled through Dargon following a
small, magical wooden box. Jandis held the box and led the group where
the small stone inside it pointed. Raphael and Kyle were behind Jandis,
talking about their lives and where they had traveled. They followed the
magical box as it led them closer to Loth. Jandis and Kyle were here
because they were commanded to stop Loth. Raphael's reasons were both
simple and involved. He simply wanted to kill Loth. He wanted Loth dead
because there was a good chance it would cure Megan. He also wanted to
kill Loth because Loth had killed his best friend. And so the three of
them walked through the town of Dargon using magic to lead them to a
mage.
After following the box for less than a bell, Raphael, Jandis, and
Kyle found themselves at the docks. Raphael caught sight of a figure
stepping into an alley at the end of Commercial Street.
"Kell?" Raphael whispered.
"What?" Jandis asked.
"I thought I saw Kell," Raphael said not knowing whether to hope
his friend was alive or not.
"There is magic ahead of us," Jandis told them. "Ready yourselves.
I think we're close." Raphael gripped his cane tighter as they strode
forward. As they reached the alley, they saw someone leaning against an
open doorway, hunched over somewhat, as if sick.
"Kell?" Raphael asked as he walked down the alley. Raphael did not
see any other people around, nor could he see inside the house that the
person was leaning against.
"Kell?" Raphael asked again as he neared.
"I'm afraid not," came a voice from somewhere in the house behind
the figure. "Or rather not as you knew him." Raphael knew that voice --
Loth. As Raphael got closer, he saw that it was really Kell -- and he
was dead. His flesh was dried and leathery and had tightened to show the
outline of his bones.
"Damn you Loth!" Raphael shouted.
"You think I wanted this?" Loth asked. "Your pitiful friend here
was very useful to me before he ended his life." Loth stepped next to
Kell's body and motioned slightly with his staff. Kell's body fell
forward into the dirt a few paces in front of Raphael. Loth stepped
outside. "You never did realize the power that was in him, did you? He
never did, either. Had he known, he could have destroyed me easily.
Easily! All that time that he hated me and wished to be free of me, and
he never knew that he could have enslaved *me*! And that power was to be
*mine* to control! *Mine*!" Loth raged. His tall frame shook and small
bolts of energy arced from the staff to him.
Jandis and Kyle were to Raphael's right and they watched as Loth's
rage faded suddenly.
"Do you remember the cabin?" Loth asked Raphael calmly. "The one
where you met Kell in disguise? Did you know that Kell held the owners
captive until you had gone. He was going to free them once you were well
away from there, but I showed up sooner than he expected. It was a joy
to watch as I made him kill them." Loth smiled and motioned someone out
of the cabin. Three men stepped out of the cabin and stood to Loth's
right. They were large men dressed in dirty, ragged clothes, and each
one held a sword in his hand.
"My bodyguards," Loth said and then laughed. "Dock worker
bodyguards," he laughed as if it were a joke known only to him. His eyes
closed to slits as he turned his attention to Jandis. "And who are your
bodyguards?"
"Get ... out of ... my ... mind," Jandis said through clenched
teeth.
"My, my, what a strong mind," Loth said. "Let's try this, then." He
raised his staff and pointed it at Jandis, but nothing happened. Nothing
that could be seen.
"Get out!" Kyle yelled suddenly.
"The Elders!" Loth hissed.
"Stay out of my mind!" Kyle yelled.
"A bit touchy, aren't you?" Loth said to Kyle. "Did you really
think that I was going to try to enter his mind again, when yours was
unprepared? Fool!"
Loth turned to look at the three men beside him. His eyes narrowed
and arcs of magical energy snapped between him and his staff. It started
at the bottom and moved up the staff quickly to disappear at the top.
Making a circular motion with the top of the staff, Loth created a small
dark cloud. He sent the small cloud towards the men. Raphael watched as
the cloud slowly drifted to the men and settled on them. As it magically
soaked into them, Raphael recognized the magic. The three men now had
the taint that he had learned to dread. It had been Loth behind all the
attempts on his life.
"I promised them a Sterling each, but now I don't have to pay them
at all," Loth explained. "They'll do whatever I command.
"Kill him!" Loth ordered suddenly as he pointed to Raphael. Raphael
looked over to Jandis and Kyle with a questioning look of 'just me?'.
Before anyone could reply, Loth snapped his staff toward Jandis. A
streak of energy flew from the staff to strike Jandis in the chest and
hurtle him backwards. Raphael couldn't look back because the three men
started to advance. His own blade was drawn and he stood relaxed.
He hoped they were just dock workers and not experienced fighters.
But when the three fanned out to surround him, that hope died somewhat.
His only, and possibly last, chance was that they wouldn't work well
together.
He stepped to the left and moved to attack. As the man blocked his
thrust, Raphael used it to set his distance. The timing would have to be
perfect. Using a few small thrusts and parries, Raphael watched as the
middle dock worker closed in. He wasn't worried about the far right man,
yet. Just a little closer. Raphael feinted a thrust and left an opening
in his defenses. Just as the left man lunged in, the middle one also
attacked. Raphael moved quickly, just ahead of both blades, and stepped
in between them. As he kept moving past both, he sliced the left dock
worker's side. Turning around quickly, he readied for an attack, but
none came. The injured man was on his knees and the other one was just
turning around. The third dock worker was behind the other two now.
Raphael backed away slightly so he could watch Loth out of the corner of
his eye. Loth was occupied with Kyle, and Raphael hoped Kyle could deal
with him.
A movement behind the three men caught Raphael's eye. Jandis stood
up and took a charred medallion from his chest and threw it down. As
Jandis looked up, he pointed at the closest man. A ring of light floated
from his hand and encircled the dock worker's waist. When the ring
started to constrict, the man looked down, dropped his sword, and
grabbed the circle of light. It was a useless effort as the circle
tightened and slowly cut him in half. He never screamed.
Raphael used the opportunity to attack the remaining uninjured man.
Without the other two, the fight ended quickly. Grabbing at his
punctured throat, the dock worker fell silently on the ground. Raphael
turned and made sure the injured dock worker wouldn't rise again.
Finished with his task, Raphael started toward Loth.
He saw Kyle slumped on the ground with his hands clutching his
stomach. Blood was running from his eyes, nose, and mouth. Raphael
grimaced as he remembered Kell suffering from the same symptoms.
Sparks of light brought him back to the present. Loth was grinning
as he forced Jandis back with hits from his staff. With every touch from
Loth's staff, there would be a spark of light and the area touched was
blackened and burned. Jandis was trying everything he knew to stay
alive. He would send flashes of light from his fingers to
strike Loth,
only to be turned away or dispelled.
"It's me you want," Raphael said as he moved toward Loth. Loth hit
Jandis one last time before turning to face Raphael. Raphael watched
Jandis fell to the ground behind Loth. Most of his clothing was burned
away and his skin was blackened.
Loth extended his hand and a glass sphere appeared. "Your precious
Megan's soul is in this globe," Loth said as he suspended the globe in
mid-air. "If you look deep enough, you can see her. Such a pretty thing.
If the globe shatters, she dies. If I die, the magic holding the globe
will end. I'm sure you can figure out what happens then. If you can
touch the globe to her physical body, you'll free her from the spell.
"I *was* going to release her. Even though it's only a slight drain
of my energies to keep her this way, it is a drain none-the-less. But
when you killed Kell, I decided to keep her. As a reminder of Kell's
weakness and my revenge on you. Besides, she looks so lovely in this
globe," he said smiling.
"I am going to kill you," Raphael said as he moved toward Loth. He
had seen what Loth's staff could do and he didn't want a repeat
performance. He had one advantage that Jandis didn't have -- he had a
sword to put between that staff and his body. Loth smiled as the two
closed the distance. Loth swung his staff at Raphael but it was more to
draw him out than to strike him. Raphael blocked his attempts and struck
back carefully. It was a game to measure each other's skill. As time
passed, the game got more intense. Raphael found that Loth's skill with
the staff was good -- but not great. He noticed a few small openings and
wondered if they were feints. He took advantage of Loth's next opening
and drew first blood.
"I see that you outmatch me in the physical skills," Loth said as
the cut on his arm started to bleed. "Let's add magical skills to our
fighting, shall we?" he asked as he sent a bolt from his finger into
Raphael's chest.
Raphael staggered back as the magical bolt burned his chest. It
wasn't a bad wound, but it was enough to let him know he was in trouble.
He doubled his attack and pushed Loth's defenses hard enough to keep him
from sending another spell, but he knew he couldn't keep the pace up for
long. He was scoring small hits on Loth, though, and it was then that
Loth's defenses opened wide. Raphael thrust his sword and realized too
late that it had been a feint.
Loth, smiling, brushed the sword aside. He thought he had Raphael's
attack parried enough to counter attack, but when the pain lanced
through his body, he knew he had made a mistake. Glancing down, he saw
that the sword pierced him in his side, low and to the outside. Loth
concentrated and energy crackled from his staff to his wound.
As the energy flew from Loth's staff, Raphael pushed the sword in
deeper. Loth drew in a sharp breath, and Raphael saw the staff begin to
move. With his sword in Loth's side, there was no protection against the
staff. There was a jolt of energy and Raphael was thrown to the ground.
Pain lanced through him as he fell. The smell of burnt hair and
flesh assaulted his senses. He looked up to watch the killing blow, but
it wasn't there. Loth, with the sword still in him, had turned toward
Jandis.
"You *dare* to test my will! I am the master!" Loth screamed at
Jandis. Raphael saw his only chance, and while Loth was mentally
occupied with Jandis, he moved. If he could grab the sword and cut
across Loth's midsection, it should be enough to kill him. As he moved
to grab the sword, Loth turned toward him.
He *knew* he couldn't avoid the staff, but maybe there would be
time enough to complete his task. That one final cut was all that
occupied his mind. His vision narrowed slowly to focus on the sword
handle. As he got closer, he watched his hands come into view to line up
with the hilt. Before he got there, the staff shattered his vision as it
came straight toward him. His body didn't stop, though; it was going to
try to complete its course of action no matter how hard his brain
screamed warnings.
He saw the staff get closer and thought for sure that he would fail
when a streak of brilliant blue light whizzed past his eyes to strike
the staff. His guess was that Jandis must have knocked the staff aside
to clear the way. He didn't care as his hands grasped the sword.
He cut from where the sword was to Loth's upper abdomen, where it
caught in a rib. Loth clutched his stomach and leaned on his staff. He
looked incredulously at Raphael. Slowly, he sank to his knees and
smiled. Looking at Loth's expression, Raphael knew what was going to
happen, and he dashed to the globe. It had just started to fall when
Raphael caught it.
He grimaced as he cradled the globe, for he knew what was coming.
It was a decision he had made instantly; he had left his back open to
Loth to save Megan -- his life for hers. When the pain exploded in his
back, his thoughts went to the globe. He cradled it and turned so that
his back would hit the ground. Raphael landed half on his side and half
on his back, and he looked down into his hands. The globe had not
cracked or broken. He started to smile when he noticed that he was
losing control and feeling in his body. He fought to turn from his side
to his back so that the globe would not fall from his hands, but his
body didn't move.
Time slowed as he watched the globe fall from his hands. As it
fell, he saw Megan inside it pounding on the glass. She was screaming
something at him but he couldn't hear her. "She always did have a fiery
soul," he thought and that was part of what he loved about her. He
watched as she stopped pounding and became still. She lifted a hand and
placed it against the glass wall as if to steady herself, but her eyes
never left his.
"I will always love you," he whispered to her. He knew she heard as
he watched her tears run down her face. He saw her lips move and he knew
what she said without having to hear it.
It wasn't a long fall, but it was enough. The globe shattered when
it hit the ground. Raphael heard Megan cry as the pieces settled and
blackness overtook him.
"I lied," Loth said. "Breaking the globe sets her free. But you'll
never see her, and much to my dismay, I don't think I will either," Loth
said as he watched his blood make a large pool around him. "Your sword
has done a rather good job of cutting me open." His staff fell from his
lifeless hand and he fell quietly to the ground as he died.
The figure on the bed jerked and drew in great gasps of breath --
life giving breath. She spasmed and the wolf pup that lay beside her
jumped away. Megan sat up and Anam looked at her in confusion.
"Raphael," she whispered as tears fell from her green eyes.
"You can't be dead," she thought. "I'd know if you were dead," she
told herself. "I saw ships behind you!" She said jumping out of the bed
and running to the door. Opening it, she turned and ran down the stairs
yelling for the only person she knew.
"May! May, where are you?" she yelled.
"Who's yelling for me now?" came a voice from the kitchen.
"May? Oh, May, he's alive!" she yelled. "I know it!"
"Who's alive? And who's yelling and causing such a commotion?" May
asked as she stepped out of the kitchen. She caught sight of Megan
standing at the foot of the stairs and took a step back.
"Sweet Stevene save me!" May yelped. "You're alive? Oh, Father of
us all, you'd best be alive. I can't stand no spirit in my place!"
"I'm alive, May! And so is Raphael. He's somewhere where the ships
are. Where would that be?" she asked. "I have to get to him. He's hurt,
May."
"How are you ... That don't matter right now, I guess. You're here
and he isn't. He didn't look too good when he left. I've been worried
about him ever since. Ships, huh. Has to be the docks. Well, don't just
stand there, come on!" May said as she headed for the door. Megan
noticed that it was near dark as she stepped outside.
She followed May through the streets of Dargon. When May stopped,
Megan saw the dock area. It was huge. There were ships all along the
docks. "Where are you?" she wondered.
"Here's the docks. Where is he?" May asked.
"I don't know," Megan answered.
"What do you mean you don't know? You said he was where the ships
were. That's here, so where is he?"
"I don't know. I didn't know the docks would be this big. He wasn't
too close to the ships, though."
"Well, I'd guess that he'd be on the south side of Commercial
street then. Let's go. We'll search each building if we have to," May
said.
"No, he wasn't in a building. He was outside one."
"Can't be that hard to find, then, can he? Just how do you know he
was here and near a building?"
"I'll explain that later, May. He's got to be here! And he's hurt,
May. He would have given his life for mine," Megan said as she started
to cry.
"That way," May said and pointed toward the end of Commercial
street. "If he isn't there, it's still a good place to start." They
walked along Commercial Street looking around and between buildings. It
was near the end when they saw a body lying on the ground, half in the
shadows, between buildings. Megan ran to it, but it wasn't Raphael.
As she stood next to the body, she looked deeper into the shadows.
There were other bodies on the ground, and one of them was Raphael. She
ran to where he lay, knelt down, and cradled his head in her lap.
"Don't you be dead, Raphael Etrigan!" She said as she shook him.
"You didn't drag me all this way to die on me! Wake up!" she yelled at
him and shook him harder. A groan escaped his lips, and she clutched him
tighter.
"Raphael?" she asked.
"Megan?" he whispered. His eyes opened and he focused them on her.
"Am I dead?" He asked.
"No," she told him. "Nearly, though."
"You're free?" he asked.
"All those years, and the first thing you say to me is 'you're
free'?" Megan said teasing. "I ought to leave you here in the dirt."
"I've missed you," he said smiling.
"And I, you," she told him.
"There's another one over here that's alive," May said. "An older
man. Is this Loth?" she asked.
"I can't get up," Raphael said. "Loth should have a sword stuck in
him, though."
"I'll see who it is," Megan said as she got up. "And if it's Loth,
I'll make sure that he doesn't stay alive for much longer." As Megan
turned, she noticed Loth on the ground with the sword still stuck in
him. She went over to him and pulled the sword out of his body.
"You might not want to watch this, May," she warned. Taking the
sword, she hacked at Loth's neck.
"I'd like to see you heal this!" she spat at Loth while she cut his
head off. "Black hearted, vile ..." she muttered as she stuck the sword
back in Loth's body.
"I take it Loth is dead?" Raphael asked. "The living one must be
Jandis. He helped me kill Loth. If not for his magic, I wouldn't have
been able to do it. How bad is he?"
"I don't know," May replied. "Wait here and I'll get a wagon. And
the town guard. They'll need to know about this."
"I don't think I'm going anywhere, May," Raphael told her. "I can't
move my legs."
"What?" Megan asked. She twisted the sword once more before she
went back to Raphael.
"I think Loth's final blow did it. I can't feel or move my legs."
"We'll get you to a healer," Megan said. "I'm just glad you're
alive. I didn't want to lose you now that I'm free."
"Come closer," Raphael said. Megan sat next to him. "Let me see
your eyes," he said. She bent down, and he looked into her eyes. Even in
the fading light, he saw her green eyes. He smiled and lifted his hand
to touch her hair. "I love you."
"I love you," she said as she kissed him.
========================================================================
